


Throwing Stones

by SpaceAsthmatic



Series: Stones Series Hobbiet AU [1]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Angst, Badass Legolas, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Family Feels, Fluff and Angst, Good Parent Thranduil, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, I love the mirkwood elves so much im screaming, Injuried Thranduil, King Legolas, Like super injured Thranduil, Near Death Experiences, Post-Battle of Five Armies, Protective Legolas Greenleaf, Serious Injuries
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-17
Updated: 2019-01-17
Packaged: 2019-07-13 12:21:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16017824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaceAsthmatic/pseuds/SpaceAsthmatic
Summary: Legolas never wanted to be king, but after Thranduil is badly injured in the Battle of the Five Armies he might not have a choice.(I don't think its really graphic but theres mentions of blood and serious injuries so I just want everyone to be safe <3 )





	1. The Found

He tried to get there before Legolas, but out running an incredibly motivated warrior prince is a rather difficult thing to do. Especially where Thranduil was concerned. It became quickly apparent that the king had fallen during the battle, and even the most desperate search parties had yet to uncover him.

Galion felt the worst kind of Deja vu, but this time he was not searching the dead for Oropher on Thranduil's behalf, but searching for Thranduil on Legolas'. He had wished with everything he had that this time it might be different, and if it wasn't he could at least keep him from discovering his father like that. Not like Thranduil had.

But Legolas was too fast, and by the time Galion reached where the horn had been blown Legolas was already kneeling next to his father who lay motionless and pale on the ground, a spear embedded deep in his back.

Galion felt Legolas' heart shatter. Just like Thranduil's had.

Legolas reached out as if he wanted to touch him, help him in some way, but knew he ought not to touch him in case the spear was in his spine. His shaking hand gently brushed Thranduil's bruised cheek, "Ada?"

The healers were coming.

His voice had not sounded so small since he was a young elfling, as if any strong wind might blow him away, "Ada, please. Wake up, you can't leave."

But the king looked so cold and pale. There were no signs of life.

He moved closer to his father, not noticing the way the blood seeped into his pants and coated one of his hands, the clean one cupped Thranduil's cheek this time, shaking tremendously.

Then he saw Legolas' heart shatter. Shoulders slumped as if the held the weight of the world and the most broken sob Galion had ever heard drifted into the air. Next, Legolas did something he had not done for centuries. He prayed.

"You can't take him. If you are going to leave us to face the darkness alone you cannot take him from me. And if you do, I expect you to  _do_ something." Another broken sob. "Kementari please."

The healers had arrived, one gently moved Legolas away so they had room to move. It seemed within seconds they had Thranduil on a stretcher and were whisking him away. Legolas had tried to follow, but they had not let him.

By the official rules of his job, he ought to follow Thranduil, always ready to do whatever his king might need. But Galion knew that his dear king would be furious with him if he learned he had not helped his son, and if this truly was his time of passing, it seemed like he might actually haunt Galion for such a thing.

So he rushed forward, ushering Legolas away from everyone. Away to somewhere private, somewhere he could wash his father's blood off his hands. Legolas was silent the entire time, eyes unfocused but his tears had not slowed.

Galion grabbed the first bucket of clean water he could find in Legolas' tent, not caring that it was nearly freezing cold, he needed to wash the blood off now. Once the hands had been scrubbed to his satisfaction the grabbed a fresh set of clothes and all but tore Legolas out of his old ones. Lastly, he wiped a cloth over his face, washing the dirt, blood, and teas that covered it.

He had stopped crying then, and blinked a few times as if he was coming back to himself, "Galion what do I do?"

Galion wished he could tell him that he could go sit by his father's bedside until he woke, but he couldn't. Legolas was the king now whenas far as the woodland realm was concerned, and kings did not have time to sit with their families in times like this.

He didn't know what to tell the prince, and so he repeated the exact thing Elrond and told Thranduil when they met on the battlefield, the crown so heavy on his head: "We are going to do this one breath a time."

Legolas breathed, eyes sliding shut for a moment. When they opened there was no trace of anything that happened in the last ten minutes. He stood, somehow taller than before, "One breath at a time."

He took another deep breath and then burst back out of the tent, Galion following swiftly.

"I need any uninjured warriors to catch up with the fleeing orc groups, make sure that they are not taking any of our people with them. Extend an offer to the dwarves to help treat any wounded they might have, and give them some antivenom regardless of their answer."

Immediately messengers scrambled away to deliver his orders to those who needed to hear them. Thranduil was going to be so proud of his son when Galion told him about this. Legolas had never wanted to be king, but if he had to, he was going to give it his all.

"Galion, I need you to go find the king and come to get me the very moment I'm needed. I want every elf we came with accounted for by nightfall. Anyone in need of a healer but not greatly so are to be packed into carts and set back to the stronghold to be treated. Humans included."

Galion turned away from the group who followed Legolas around like a tiny school of fish as he made his way through the camp, squeezing him reassuringly on the shoulder as he went. Then he began to sprint towards the king's tent, where he would have been taken to be treated in private. Legolas' voice drifted back to him right before he entered the tent, "And somebody find Bard!"


	2. Chapter 2

Galion was glad that he wasn’t the only one in the tent when he finally brought Legolas to see his father, Lord Ferdan had taken up a permanent residence at his bedside as a self-appointed guard. And as one of Thranduil's dearest friends, he was nearly as familiar with the king and his son as Galion himself was.  

 

He had seen Thranduil after the dragon fire, but Galion still winced when he led Legolas into the tent. At least after the burns, he was screaming, at least they knew he was very much alive. In excruciating pain perhaps, but alive. Now, he lay paler and stiller than ever in a mound of blankets in a desperate attempt to keep him warm. 

 

The king had not even flutter an eyelash the entire time the healers treated him. Even worse, he didn’t react to the only thing that could always reach him, his son in any kind of distress. 

 

The moment Legolas stepped into the tent whatever facade he had managed to keep together in front of the rest of the warriors, crumbed away back to reveal a terrified and heartbroken son. Too young to be the king of a world so dark. 

 

“He’s alive, I assure you.” Ferdan hastily interjected before Legolas had a chance to fully take in the scene. 

 

Galion had expected Legolas to rush to his father's side, like he had done early in the day but he seemed frozen in place, “Is he?” 

 

“Yes, dear child.” 

 

With leaden feet he approached his father and sat on his bedside, taking one of the larger limp hands while pressing his free hand to his father's face. Potentially checking to make sure he didn’t have a fever which usually meant the orcs had been dipping their weapons in spider venom again. 

 

He turned watery eyes back to the Lord, lower lip trembling in a desperate attempt at keeping his composure, “I can’t sense him.” 

 

Galion had to turn away briefly to blink a few tears from his eyes but still heard the weapons masters kind voice, “He is very weak, it is true. But he’s still there.” 

 

When he turned back Legolas had taken both of his father's hands between his own, “His hands are cold.” 

 

The prince seemed frozen again, staring at their linked hands, body there but mind impossibly far away. Thranduil would be heartbroken when he learned about this, and likely be furious with himself for not waking to comfort his beloved Greenleaf.   

 

Soon, much too soon a messenger very cautiously entered the tent, “My prince, I’m sorry to-” 

 

“What is it?” Legolas snapped, wincing slightly at his own tone in surprise as his hands tightened over his father's. 

 

The poor elf also winced, “Avaleina sent me, sir-” 

 

Legolas gestured for him to stop, the very embodiment of his father for a moment, and then looked to Galion nearly just as broken as the last time he had seen him. Galion tried to give what he hoped was a reassuring look and mouthed: ‘One breath at a time.’ 

 

The prince closed his eyes briefly as he took a great deep breath. 

 

Opening his eyes he turned to look at his father, “Ada, they will be taking you back home soon and I do not think I will be able to see you again before then. But I will see you there soon.” Leaning forward he kissed his father's cheek and pressed a bright green leaf into his hand cold, limp hand. 

 

Very, very, very slowly the Thranduil's hands closed around the precious offering. 

 

Galon had no idea in the slightest where Legolas found such a leaf in late autumn in such a cold place, but he hoped that was a sign Kementari had been listening. If that wasn’t, the fact that Thranduil's fingers curled around the leaf just a little bit was.

 

Legolas took another deep breath and stood and turned to Ferdan, “You’re staying with him?” 

 

Ferdan pressed a hand over his heart, “Until the day I die of old age if need be.” 

 

With a nod, Legolas stalked out of the tent following the messenger as he scuttled in front of his prince towards where he was needed. 

 

Galion looked at his king for a moment, as Ferdan spoke to him gesturing towards the tent doors, “And you’re staying with him.” 

 

“Until the day I die of old age if need be.” Galion agreed, after tipping his head in respect he raced after Legolas. 

……………………………………………………………………………………………….

 

Legolas had stopped paying attention hours ago, and at this point, he didn’t care who noticed. They had been having this argument for weeks: What to do about the ‘master from beyond the woods.’

 

It was the same argument they had been having for almost months with his father before this. Legolas had intended to tell Mithrandir, regardless what anybody wanted to do. He had trusted the wizard completely.

 

But then the first time he had seen him since learning the news was after his father had already been injured. Injured in a war they had no intention of fighting, because he had counseled some dwarves to wake a sleeping dragon. 

 

Some had pointed out it could have been with an intention of convincing Smaug to join the dark forces in Dol Guldur. Which would have effectively ended his people, and destroy their forest.

 

Which seemed very much like something a ‘master from beyond the tree’s might do. 

 

Even if it was not the wizard, there were very few being left on Arda that might be able to rival the master the dark city had just had. It also did not seem like a coincidence that Lady Galadriel had appeared to ‘banish’ the first master.  

 

An act that had only made matters worse, as the only restraint on the Orcs inherent and foul nature had been removed and allowed them to rule themselves as they would. 

 

There was nothing on Arda that Orcs hated more than Elves. 

 

If it was not Lady Galadriel than perhaps it was Saruman. Apparently, he had sent the Lady away with Lord Elrond. Who's to say it's not him when there are no witnesses. Legolas himself did not believe that Elrond would ever be apart of such things, but others accused him as well. 

 

He hadn’t learned any of this information from any of them, of course, but from Radagast who had long been an ally to the Greenwood. All Elves, tree’s, and creatures of light alike within it. Radagast had been waiting for him in his father's office when he finally returned from the slaughter at the mountain to tell all he had witnessed and heard, along with a carefully brewed tea he hoped might help Thranduil heal. 

 

“I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Who’s to say that it’s not all of them, knowingly or not?” A counselor close to him shouted over the rest, looking towards Legolas as if he expected to find some support. He received none.   

 

Who indeed was it to say it wasn’t just one of them, maybe it was two or three. But shouldn't they tell someone? Warn them? 

 

Who do you tell when you do not know which one is attempting to ruin you? 

 

His father had been trying to warn them about the coming darkness, tried to warn them that the trouble to their lands was more than just lack of protective jewelry. But they had not listened. They never listened, who’s to say they would listen now? 

 

Other argued that maybe they could get help from the other realms, especially if they warned them about a traitor amongst them, maybe they at long last would realize the threat they had been struggling against. 

 

They hadn’t helped Greenwood before, why would they now? 

 

“But who are we if we leave them in the midst of one touched with such darkness?” Somebody somewhere responded. Legolas was too disinterested to determine who the voice belonged to.

 

“Who are we to spill our secrets to others who have already displayed no compassion in the past who might now be leading the very forces that are currently burning our trees and killing our children!”   

 

And so the argument had gone in endless circles for endless days.

 

An argument between compassion and desperation. 

 

His father had only woken three times since he had returned from the battle, and not a single time had Legolas gotten there in time before he had fallen back to sleep. The healers said they weren't sure how well he would be able to use his legs after such an injury, if at all. He had learned from Galion however that he was able to wiggle his toes. He had learned from Galion because he was always away and never there himself, doing the same things, having the same arguments. 

 

“Enough!” 

 

Legolas was slightly surprised at his own tone, as he often was these days. It did the job well though, and all the counselors finally fell silent for seemed like the first time in days. 

 

“If we do not know who we can trust, then we will trust no one. They have left us to rot in the corner, I care not what they do anymore. Close the borders. Nobody is allowed into these woods, and no letters or people are coming out of it. Let them eat each other alive if they so wish. We have our own problems.” 

 

There was a general stunned silence in the room as they all glanced at one another, Legolas stood up and leaned his hands on the table, “Anything else you would like to discuss?” 

 

Mutley they all shook their heads, “Wonderful. Lastly, if anybody sees Mithrandir let him know that if one single strand of his grey beard enters these wood, I will personally feed him to the largest spider I can find.” 

 

  ………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

 

Galion had come with the pretenses of only dropping off a meal for Legolas in the king's bedroom since he had taken to sleeping on the couch in his father's bedroom in hopes he could be there for the few times Thranduil woke up.  

 

Usually, when Thranduil woke up Legolas was in the middle of something, somewhere, and by the time somebody had found Legolas and brought him back his father had already fallen back to sleep. 

 

Thranduil had been like this for months. When Galadriel banished the Necromancer she did nothing about those that followed him. She took away the only restraint against the orcs animalistic hatred and left them while they took torches to the wonderful trees of Greenwood. 

 

The only thing that had saved them while they grew accustomed to the new and more ravenous war, was the power Thranduil allowed the woods to take from him. As a result, he was unable to heal himself. Sometimes it still seemed as if he struggled to stay alive. 

 

The healers kept insisting that he was not aware of anything, not even the power he allowed to be leached out of him. But Galion and Legolas knew better than that, the king knew exactly what he was doing. 

 

Although, it was possible he wasn’t aware of what it was doing to Legolas. 

 

Galion pulled a chair up to his king's bed, and sat cross-legged in the seat, “You would have been so proud of Legolas today. He told one of the members of your council to stop talking in the middle of his sentence. It was beautiful.” 

 

There would be very few people who Galion would admit this too, but he missed his friend dearly. Because Thranduil was his friend first and foremost, perhaps the dearest friend he had ever had, and a king second. Galion did not serve him because it was his job, or his duty, he did it because he wanted to. He wanted to help as much as he could. Already Thranduil had attempted to replace him as his personal attendant on multiple occasions, for Galions sake, the fear of him being overworked would have haunted the king's heart. But Galion had never allowed such a thing. 

 

To most Thranduil was not a person but a King, above such things as close friendships and loneliness. That was not true, of course, loneliness often plagued his poor king with a vicious cruelty,  with his wife long taken, and his only son gone away to war more times than he was not. It might have been the end of him, but Galion had never allowed such a thing. 

 

“I think I have spent too much time with you, my king because I could hear you laughing in my head. Both Lord Ferdan and I had to excuse ourselves in case we couldn’t contain ourselves.” He almost expected to see Thranduil smile, just a little bit, but he did not so much as flutter an eyelash. 

 

“The warriors keep getting reports about the ‘a powerful new leader outside the woods’ from interrogated orcs. They keep taunting that we think them a friend, apparently. Legolas isn’t convinced that Mithrandir is free of guilt.” 

 

He could remember disturbing what appeared to be a very heated argument between Legolas and the wizard on the night after the battle, as ordered Galion went to fetch the prince the moment he was needed. He had never seen Legolas like that before, so angry that he was cold. 

 

_ ‘You had better hope I am still a prince the next time you see me Mithrandir, and not a king. For your sake.’  _

 

Galion learned later that he had also all but thrown Gandalf out of the Elven camp, and banned him from returning to Greenwood. His heart and ears stinging with the taunted promise that it was someone they knew.  

 

“He closed the borders, Thranduil. Just this morning he sent a letter back to Lord Elrond unopened, even you never had the gall to do that.”  

 

Thranduil didn't move a single inch. Galion sighed, “You need to wake up soon, my king. Your son misses you.” 

 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

 

The very moment the door handle to Thranduil's private rooms dared to even move a single inch, Galion foot shot out from the couch he had been sleeping on to hold it in place. The elf on the other side of the door did not dare try and open it more after that, which was lucky for them because the attendant was in no mood for such a thing.   

 

He had spread the word to all the messengers and servants that Legolas was not to be disturbed under any circumstances, and any who dare to do so was going to be eating plain burnt oatmeal for the rest of their natural lives. 

 

He hoped the elf on the other side of that door liked oatmeal. 

 

Carefully Galion sprang from the couch, opened the door in the special way that didn’t make it squeak - Thranduil himself tinkered with the door in a fit of frustration so that it squeaked every time it was open to keep a very young Legolas from sneaking away without him noticing - and stepped into the hall. 

 

By the look on the poor messenger's face, he did not like oatmeal, but judging by his heavy breathing it seemed he had just sprinted here. Galion glowered down at him nonetheless, “The prince is not to be disturbed. Come again later.” 

 

The messenger held out a piece of paper and Galion recognized Avaleina’s handwriting immediately.

 

He snatched the paper to read it and judge its importance, grabbing the back of the messenger's shirt when he made to move out of arm's reach:  _ They broke through and I ordered a retreat, the forest burns around us. I’m sorry.  _

 

Not looking him in the eye the younger elf muttered, “The forest says not all of them escaped the fire. Farlen and his men are searching for the rest of them now but have yet to locate anyone from the outpost.” 

 

Galon signed, and released his shirt, “Stay here, I’m sure Legolas will have ordres for you to convey in a moment.” 

 

He back inside, still keeping the door from squeaking. Moving around the couch he had dragged to the door he cross Thranduil's living room and slipped into the bedroom where the royal family slept. 

 

After a quick glance at the king to make sure he was not awake, more out of habit than anything he knelt beside the extra bed he had ordered be brought to the room where Legolas slept. He was dismayed to find that he slept with his eyes closed, an uncommon habit for elves unless heavily injured or exhausted. 

 

As gently as he possibly could Galion pressed a single finger to Legolas shoulder, not surprised when the jolted awake as if he had just been stabbed, “I’m sorry to wake you.” 

 

Legolas blinked sleep from his eyes, “What time is it? Nevermind I don't want to know. It feels like I’ve only had an hour of sleep in a week, I think I can taste sounds.”  

 

“Well then I’ll just show you the note instead of telling you what it says, I’m certain it will taste just as bad as it looks.” With that he passed the prince the note, glancing over to Legolas’ uneaten dinner on the table with further dismay while he waited for him to read it. 

 

He crumpled it in his hand when he read it and tossed it into the fire, and hung his head in his hands for a moment. After a very long, deep breath, he raised it again and swung his legs out of bed. “Okay, I’m coming.” 

 

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

 

Waking up this time felt like being dragged from the very depths of the earth, he didn’t remember why. His back ached with a fiery fierceness, and it echoed down both legs but especially his right, he didn’t remember why. 

 

He didn’t remember why it had become so important to wake up. 

 

He opened his eyes slowly, not recognizing where he was right away but eventually working out that he was in his bedroom. He didn’t know how he had gotten here, it felt as if he had just been somewhere else. 

 

Or had he? 

 

It felt as if this had happened before, that he had woken with this heavy confusion fluttering around his mind. There was something in his hand, it felt familiar. 

 

All thoughts vanished from his head, “Legolas?” 

 

His voice sounded awful even to his own sleep dulled ears, like had swallowed gravel only moments ago. 

 

“Ada?” His son’s voice drifted over from somewhere to his left that he did not see, voice sounding off for some reason.  

 

A second later that was a weight on his bed near him and finally, his beloved Greenleaf came into view. His blue eyes looked beyond hopeful, but were haunted by a darkness that nearly stopped Thranduil's heart. Now that his fare face was in sight it was obvious that he had just been crying. 

 

Carefully he lifted his hand to wipe the tears from Legolas’ face, ignoring the pain that shot through him as well as how weak he felt, “My little leaf, do not cry” 

 

In response Legolas nearly burst into sobs but managed to suppress them, “Ada please you have to come back.” 

 

Come back? Where had he gone? It felt like he should know, but didn’t remember. It didn’t sound like him, he had promised his son long ago that he would never leave him, and he had meant it. 

 

“I’m trying my best, I swear that I am but it feels like everything I do is wrong. So many of our people are dying, so much of our forest burning and it’s all my fault. I can’t do this Ada. I’m so sorry.” 

 

Not caring in the slightest about the pain that nearly blinded him, Thranduil reached up and pulled his son against his chest, holding him the best he could manage as the sobs overtook the restraint. 

 

He was almost certain that Legolas had not wept like this since before he became of age, and it broke his heart while his blood boiled with anger. Whatever had happened, he was going to fix it. Nothing was going to hurt him like this again. He would make sure of it. 


	3. The Persistent

Galion was woken abruptly in the middle of the night,  something he wished to say was a rare occurrence but it was not. With a sigh he opened the door to reveal one of the young guards, “Lord Ferdan ordered us to come and retrieve you if-”   
  
“Where is he?”   
  
“The king's study.”   
  
Closing the door behind him he set off for the study, rolling his eyes at the guard who followed three feet behind like that could save him from the prince when Galion arrived. Stopping outside the study door he turned to look at the young elf, “Goodbye.”   
  
The guard stared at him wide-eyed, “I have orders from Lord Ferdan to-”   
  
“You had orders to come and get me, I don't particularly care about the rest. Thank you for your service, have a good night.” The royal family was incredibly private and Galion had spent millennia chasing people away from Thranduil and was more than willing to do the same with his son.   
  
The poor elf still stood there frozen like a deer between his fear of the archery master and of Galion. The archery master could make every aspect of his training and assignments to be especially grueling, but Galion could quite potentially ruin every other aspect of his life if he was determined enough. All of the cooks, messengers, attendants, housekeepers answered to him. Not officially, of course, but if he told them to do something they would do it.   
  
Galion crossed his arms and stared at the guard until he nearly sprinted away. Satisfied, he entered the study without knocking.   
  
Candles were alight everywhere, with papers strewn across most surfaces. Some were maps, some messages, some were books, and Valar knew what else.   
  
“I don't want to hear it.”    
  
“Don't want to hear what, my prince?”   
  
Legolas didn’t even spare him an ounce of energy to glare but kept staring down a particularly complicated mound of papers. Nor did he care to respond, it seemed.   
  
“Don’t want to hear that it's very late and you should be sleeping.”   
  
Ever his father's son, Legolas decided to just ignore him.  
  
“Don’t want to hear that you know you should not be going out into the forest with your warriors anymore.”   
  
It was a low blow, he knew it was, but he needed a reaction, “What would your father tell you.”  
  
Legolas flicked his eyes up to him, “I fully expect that he would cross his arms and give me ‘that look’ right before threatening to tie me to my bed. But he is not here, he is not awake, and he can’t help me so somebody has to do this.”      
  
“It doesn't have to be you. Not all of the time.”   
  
“Then who? If not me, then who? Lord Ferdan, who just this morning left to replace a captain that will never wake again. Aolassa, who’s commanding by the northern border, Avaleania who is commanding the eastern border? Farlen who has been in a deep sleep for weeks? How about all the captains who lay injured and potentially unable for duty. Who, Galion, is going to do this, if not me?”  
  
Galion blinked at him, he wasn’t here for an argument. He was here to get Legolas to bed before he fell over. Picking a fight sometimes had its merits, but now was not one of those times.   
  
Learning to be a King was a hard thing to learn, even harder with no teacher, and hardest during a war. He could still remember Thranduil acting nearly in the exact same way, seemingly always on the brink of potential hysteria, but still so focused on every task at hand. Perhaps to their own detriment.  
  
Legolas heard it first and Galion a moment later, footsteps in the hallway coming purposefully towards them, “Oh Valar, what now?” Before whoever was outside could bother giving a pathetically tentative knock Legolas had called for them to come in.   
  
Surprisingly it was one of his archers, Tern, and not a messenger. “Sorry to intrude, but Elrond's twins are here.”   
  
“As in at the borders of the forest?”   
  
“As in waiting in the throne room.”   
  
Had Legolas been drinking anything he probably would have choked on it, “They’re where? What part of ‘Close the borders to everyone’ was hard to understand?”     
  
Tern crossed his arms, “Don’t get snappy at me, I am just following the orders of both Lord Ferdan and Avaleania. Feel free to travel east for two days to yell at Avaleania or two days west to yell at Ferdan yourself, or perhaps you can write a strongly worded letter which I can deliver upon my return.” He smiled charmingly at the end.   
  
“Don’t tempt me.” Legolas passed Tern in the doorway with a notifiable sniff, “Go have a bath you smell horrible.”   
  
“It's wonderful to see you too!”   
  
.........................................................................................................................................................

  
  
They waited for about three hours before Legolas finally appeared, he didn't look happy to see them. Although considering how long it had taken them to be allowed in the forest they had not expected much else.   
  
He stopped near the throne but did not sit in it, “And how did you two manage to end up here?”   
  
“Through incredible stealth and precision, we managed to sneak our way into the forest and close enough to the stronghold that your archers had no choice but to bring us here,” Elladan answered, always the first to speak.   
  
Legolas might have laughed, should have laughed but didn't. “Wrong. You would not have gotten past any of our controlled borders and neither of you could survive traveling in the enemies lines alone. Elrohir?”  
  
The younger twin shrugged, “You will not let us enter the forest, but you cannot keep us from trying over, over, and over again. We have nowhere else to be.”  
  
“So you annoyed my captains into letting you through.”   
  
“Pretty much.”   
  
“Exactly.”   
  
He should have laughed at them, but he didn't. “Why?”   
  
The twins looked at one another and Elrohir waved his brother off. “Because you are our friend and suddenly you treat us like an enemy, we heard about what happened at the mountain. We have been trying to see if you are okay but you will not so much as accept a letter.”  
  
“Only because you are my friend?”   
  
“Yes, what other reason could we have?” They asked, together.   
  
Then Elrohir added, “We were starting to fear the worst.”   
  
This Legolas laughed at, “And what was this terrible fear?”   
  
Elrohir wasn't going to say it, in case it was true. Elladan however, had no problem getting right to the point. “That King Thranduil was killed in the battle at the mountain.”   
  
Legolas gave no reaction in the slightest. No indication if the rumor was true or not.   
  
“Legolas what is happening in this forest?” Elrohir took a step closer, “Whatever it is we can help.”   
  
The perhaps king looked down at them, and they were struck by how - Hollow? No, not hollow - tired, sad he looked. Then he sat in the throne, but not in a regal way but perhaps defeat. “But you can’t keep a secret.”   
  
“From who?” Elrohir asked, not Legolas but his twin who appeared to have figured out the answer already.    
  
“Our family. The other powerful elven realms left.” But just because he knew the answer didn't mean he believed or agreed with it, “Which, by the way, is not true. With Galadriel as my grandmother do you not think she would have taught us how to shield ourselves. Besides, Ada and Glorfindel know when not to pry.”   
  
Legolas leaned back in the throne, elbows resting on both armrests, “And Lady Galadriel? Mithrandir?”   
  
Elladan continued on, completely undeterred.“We have not seen our grandmother for quite some time, we can't bring ourselves to visit the woods since the sailing of our mother, and she can no longer leave her tree’s. As for Mithrandir; he seems to have fled to Gondor for the time being but if he is to return we shall depart Imladris that moment. I swear it.”   
  
He seemed to think this information over for no short amount of time, glancing at the door he had entered through like it might present him with the right course of action to take. The twins stood in silence, giving their friend the time he needed to think it over. Then, finally, he spoke again, “Ada didn't die at the battle of the mountain, but sometimes it feels like he did.”   
  
...............................................................................................................................................................................

  
They hadn't really expected Legolas to share everything with them, for he had stopped doing so many years passed. But he did. He showed them every report of the new master, told them every story he had heard or experienced, showed them the remedies Radagast had been using to try and treat the king, and then finally the king himself.    
  
King Thranduil, the last elven king this side of the sea. King Thranduil, who it seemed was made out of the same stone as the mountain that sheltered his people. King Thranduil who somehow, someway always found a way to keep his people and his kingdom together, happy, and functioning. King Thranduil who looked so pale he might have been dead, so deep in his sleep he didn't so much a twitch a toe at Legolas’ approach when usually it could wake him from the deepest of sleep.    
  
Elrohir snuck a glance at Legolas while Elladan investigated closer to the sleeping King. Their friend had shown them much, showed them all the information but kept himself hidden away behind a mask. A carefully constructed mask, hard to spot, but a mask nonetheless. Neither twin said anything about the cot pushed against one wall, out of the way enough but still very close to Thranduil's bedside.    
  
Elladan began examining Thranduil just as their father had taught them but was unable to find anything to fix that the wood elves or Radagast hadn't already, “He’s been like this since the battle?”   
  
Legolas wouldn't look at either of them, “Yes.”    
  
“With no change?”    
  
“Depends on what you consider change. He wakes up, sometimes. Every few weeks.”    
  
“Weeks?” The twins demanded together. And then Elladan continued, “He should be gaining strength. Why hasn't he healed himself? It’s beenwell over three years, Legolas”    
  
“I know! I know how long its been” Still, he wouldn't even look at them. He took a few steps forward to the bed, lovingly brushing a few strands of hair from his father's face from where the breeze had blown it and then adjusted his pillows and blankets. It seemed to be more out of lack of activites for his hands than any actual need to do so.    
  
“Legolas.”    
  
Still, the Prince ignored them. Or actually didn't hear him, they weren't sure which one. He carefully lifted a cup of water that had been resting on a table nearby to let Thranduil take incredibly small sips of water.      
  
“Legolas.” They demanded together.    
  
“Because he's a stubborn fool, that's why.” He nearly slammed the water cup back onto the table. “He's a stubborn fool that doesn't know when to stop putting others before himself. He’s a fool who seems set on giving everything to the forest even if it means killing himself and he’s making me watch! That's why.”   
  
Somehow, almost out of thin air Galion appeared in the room with the energy akin to a rabid, starving, angry Wolverine, “That is enough. This is exactly why we closed the borders, you two appear in the dead of night and force him to go through every painful experience of the past year and offer no help whatsoever until morning. Can you not see that-”    
  
“Galion-” Legolas attempted to interrupt but was spoken over by both of the twins.    
  
“No he’s right Legolas, but we do have an idea if you want to hear it.” The two woodland elves drew quite and exchanged loaded glances with one another that the twins could not decipher.    
Elladan crossed his arms, “We force him to let go. We force more of him back into his body and out of the forest, give him no choice but to do it.”    
  
“How?” Galion asked when Legolas said nothing.     
  
“Injury him. Not bad, it would not take much. Enough to scare him. Enough for him to know he needs to come home. Enough for the tree’s to push him away for good.”    
  
They exchanged glances again, and the twins saw that degree of panic one got when they thought Legolas was about to do something impulsive on Galion’s face right before the prince spoke, “Say like just a smidge of some sort of poison, perhaps a venom.”     
  
“Exactly like that.” The twins agreed the same moment Galion muttered a warning: “Legolas.”      
  
Both twins felt the exact same panic when Legolas snatched a quiver from under the cot and easily fished out a vile that held some sort of foul blue-black substance. Before they could do anything a knife appeared in his hand the tip already dipped into the vile, “Sorry, Ada.” and cut a shallow cut down part of his forearm.    
  
Immediately the wound seemed to bleed like ink under his skin spreading the black over most of his forearm. “Legolas!” Elrohir cried, completely shocked at the utter brashness.    
  
Their friend glanced up at him somehow more lively than before, “It won't kill him. It’ll hurt, but it won't kill him.”    
  
“Oh Valar.” Galion groaned and threw himself into a chair, but did not seem particularly alarmed.    
  
“I agree with Galion!” Elrohir continued, voice still a smidge higher than it probably should have been. “We meant to let us do it, or somebody more qualified.”    
  
Legolas wiped the knife on his pant leg and it vanished from view again, “I know what I’m doing. If that was all the venom it took to kill us there would be no woodland realm left.” Having decided that ignoring his friend, for the time being, was his best option Elladan made to clean and bandage the fresh cut but Legolas caught his arm, “Leave it.”    
  
The older win pulled his arm free, “What?”    
  
“You said to give him no choice. I know how to win a fight with my father; so leave it.”    
   
..................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................

  
  
Waking up was different this time. It didn’t feel like falling from one dream and into another. It felt sharp and real, and painful for some reason. This time he did not have to drag his eyelids open with trembling will but with the closest thing to ease he could remember.    
  
It was the middle of the day, it seemed and the first thing he saw was his son's incredibly anxious face, “I’m sorry but you gave me no choice.”    
  
He frowned, he hurt but not as much as he remembered before. It didn’t cloud his vision with stars or roar in his ears, but there was a prominent and dreadful throbbing form his right arm. Legolas came to sit on his bed with him and the dip in the bed didn’t ignite the same fire in his back although it did still hurt.    
  
Reaching out of view a cup of water appeared in his hand and Legolas held it to his father's lips waiting until he had swallowed before he spoke again, “I poisoned you. A few times, actually. And I’m not that sorry either.”    
  
Thranduil managed to shake his head weakly, “I’m sorry.”    
  
He didn’t know exactly why Legolas had done it but fully believed that it had been needed. That he had done something to make his son so desperate or scared or alone that he would do it. He knew it was his fault and he hated it.    
  



	4. Chapter 4

"Get up."

It was humiliating. And it hurt.

Getting his legs to do anything he wanted again after being in a state if injured disuse for so long seemed nearly impossible, and attempting to force them into submission had proven to be one of the more painful experiences of his long life.

"Get up and try again."

He was a king and a great warrior. He had literally fought dragons before, and now he could not even manage to walk across the length of his room, "No."

Legolas was the only one in the room with him, something Thranduil had been grateful for moments ago but was not starting to realize might be his downfall. He couldn't intimidate him into listening, not if he didn't want to. Not over something like this.

He glanced down at the three perfectly straight, thin scars on his arm.

Above him standing by the sturdy bar meant to support the bulk of his weight while his legs regained their strength Legolas crossed his arms, " 'No' wasn't an option on the list. Now get up, and try again."

When his father didn't respond or even move, Legolas crouched down in front of him, "Or you can give up, and be a coward. Let the pitiful excuse for a living creature that stabbed you in the back win."

Thranduil glared at him with everything he could muster.

Legolas didn't so much as blink.

Then, with something very close to a growl the King of Greenwood the Great reached up to grasp the bar and try again.

* * *

Thranduil eyed the mound of papers on the table by his chair with incredibly obvious distaste, keeping his gaze there long enough until he was certain all the councilors in the room were thoroughly uncomfortable and at least half of them wanted to be swallowed by the ground. Galion nearly glowed with glee.

These were not all the advisors on the council by any means, but a small handful. A small handful that Thranduil was struggling not to strangle one by one so they were no longer his problem.

"These are the decisions and orders you have a problem with?" The King indicated to the stack of papers and turned to look at the troop of now incredibly worried councilors.

Candor, the oldest of the council was the only one that could meet his gaze, "Yes, my King."

Thranduil grunted and looked back at the stack of complaints, complaints against his son. Complaints of his card for their kingdom, complaints in how his he managed to somehow keep them afloat, complaints about whatever suited them it seemed. "So if I were to go through that stack, I would find lists of alternative solutions offered for every decision you have a problem with."

"Well…" Candor looked over to the others on the council, eyes pleading for backup that never came as all others turned eyes to the roof, floor, or their own hands. "Some of them I know-"

"Perhaps I wasn't clear enough for you. Is there, or is there not alternative solutions for every complaint and problem you have brought to me. It is not a difficult question."

Candor cleared his throat and joined in at examining the suddenly incredibly interesting carpet, "No, my king."

"I see." He took another incredibly vague look at the stack, looking more displeased than before. "Were any solutions offered during the meetings, or in a note at the very least?"

"I cannot remember for every-"

"Think harder then." His voice could have turned any standing water in the room to ice if he wanted.

"No. My king. There were not."

Thranduil clicked his tongue, a habit of his that Legolas took much to much joy in copying, "Disappointing."

Thranduil drew silent again to allow them to wallow in the delightfully uncomfortable atmosphere in the room that he had created, sparing a breath to wink at Galion who still lingered nearby. "Completely and utterly disappointing. Perhaps you all have forgotten your roles in this court but I assure you I have not, need I remind you all?"

Nobody said anything. "Very well. Your job is to offer support, advice, and encouragement. Your job is to try and make an impossible task a little less difficult, not more so. Your job is to help in any and all ways you can. Yet I am to understand that none of you have bothered to do anything but criticize every single decision made? Every breath, move and word?"

Still, they said nothing. "Disgusting. Remove yourselves for I do not care to look at you."

They all left at once.

Somehow Galion was able to stifle his cackle of delight until the door had been firmly closed, "You have no idea how long I have been waiting for you to wake up and tell them that."

Thranduil turned to face his attendant with a small smile, "Not as long as Legolas."

"No, not as long as Legolas." Galion watched as Thranduil tossed the stack of deeply offending papers into the fireplace without an ounce of flourish, "You're going to talk to him, right?"

Pulling other stacks towards himself so he could read them, Thranduil was already too absorbed in the words to look up, "Yes, of course, I am. I already told you I was."

Galion frowned at his king. Thranduil had only been continuously awake for barely a month and had spent much of it attempting to catch up on everything that had happened to his kingdom during his temporary 'departure.' However, this was the first time he had talked to any of the councilors.

While Thranduil might have been awake more, his body still had much healing to do in the last month and he had looked anything but healthy when he woke. The spider venom Legolas had neatly slit into his arm had not helped matters, even if it ended up being what was needed.

Galion did not liked to think about why exactly Legolas had it, for he knew that it did not affect the orcs and that elves would go to great lengths to avoid capture by the enemy. Even the Halls of Mandos was better than that.

He pulled the papers out of Thranduil's hands, "Tonight. You're going to talk to him tonight. As soon as he walks through those doors."

* * *

It ended up being very, very late when Legolas got back, and he was clearly entirely shocked to find his father still awake. He was freshly washed from some fresh new horror that he hadn't mentioned and probably wouldn't. "You should be sleeping."

Thranduil was also not somewhere in the room that was easily accessible by the bar, and standing "I think I've had enough of that for a while, thank you."

Legolas smiled then, somehow both hopeful and chiding, "Did you walk there?"

"I had some help."

Ferdan had brought it to him at dinner that day, apparently, he had been working on it for weeks. A beautiful cane, fashioned to look like a great tree with flowers blooming delicately at the top. His friend had grumbled that if he was going to have to use a cane anyways it might as well be a similar fashion to his crown.

Thranduil hadn't shown anybody since he had gotten it, not even Galion. He wanted Legolas to be the first. And so he held it out from where he had been hiding it behind his back and in the folds of his clothes.

"Ada, it's beautiful." To his relief, he really did seem to mean that.

As beautiful as it was, he knew that his pride would take a sore hit the moment he set foot outside his chambers with it. But he had to, for Legolas he had to. Slowly, and carefully he took a few steps back across his bedroom.

Legolas watched on with that smile still on his face and Thranduil knew every whisper he heard would be worth it, "Did Ferdan make it?"

"Of course he did, the mother hen." He came to a stop, it still hurt. Valar did it hurt, but it was getting better. He would be better. "Legolas-"

Before he could say anything more his son had thrown up his hands, "No! No, I know that tone and I do not want to hear it."

It was hard to keep the tone and withhold laughter, "Greenlea-"

"No! Goodnight, Ada. Sweet dreams-" He made to theoretically turn away but Thranduil managed to catch his hand, and knowing how unstable his father still was on his feet Legolas stopped his tactical retreat immediately. "That's cheating."

"I have apologized to you countless times-"

"And I do not want to hear another one."

"But shamefully I have not thanked you." Legolas was a different kind of still then, and he looked down to where his father still clutched at his hand. "You have accomplished amazing things, and our people could not have asked for a better king. You are one of the strongest, bravest and most determined elf I have ever met, and I do not know how or why I was blessed with you but I'm glad every single day that I was. Thank you, Legolas, my little leaf, for everything. Thank you."


	5. Chapter 5

His father had felt that something had happened in the woods by the borders to greatly upset the elvish patrol there about an hour and a half before they arrived. Both Legolas and his father had been sitting in a council meeting when Galion appeared at the door with a sour look on his face.   
  
After only a brief glance, Legolas excused himself and left the king to deal with matters, while he investigated the reason for the commotion. Galion did not wait for him even a moment before turning on his heel and gliding away, quick enough it was easy to tell that his steps were fueled with anger.   
  
He jogged to catch up, “What's wrong?”   
  
“The patrol found Gandalf and some human halfway to our home. At first they were only going to draw up the bridges and hope he turned back but of course, the human stepped in a web.”   
  
Legolas rolled his eyes, “Of course.” Even before he had closed his borders off to everyone an escort was mandatory through their woods for newcomers. The exact same thing had happened with the dwarves as with Gandalf; they had long been trailing them before the hobbit had gone and played with the web.   
  
He could still hear the half breathed curses from the branches around him the moment Bilbo did that.   
  
“Gandalf brought some foul, tainted creature in a sack.”   
  
“A sack?”   
  
They had all believed that Gandalf would turn up on their doorstep sooner or later, needing a favor for some affair he had meddled in. Legolas was already absolutely certain he wanted no part in it.   
  
He realized that Galion was leading him down, down, down into the earth. Past the cellars and into the dungeons, where a horrible screeching and wailing sound echoed with nauseating relentlessness.   
  
Avaliena waited for him at the bottom of the stairs, a wince on her face at the noise but a burning anger in her eyes, and a very deep and humanlike bite mark on her arm. She didn't say anything right away only gestured for him to look into the cell where a very tiny, dirty, and pitiful creature wallowed in everything wrong in its life. Loudly.   
  
Some sort of cushioning had been fastened to his hands, and he had been tied by the waist with some sort of fabric and to the ceiling in such a way it kept him from reaching any of the solid stone walls. The ground beneath him had been padded, but there was already deep bruises and gashes in his head.    
  
A long rope lay in a pile nearby.  
  
The creature seemed to be more upset with the cushioning than with the gashes bleeding onto his face.   
  
Legolas had seen enough, and turned away and quickly made his way back up the stairs and was followed, he assumed, by the other two elves. When finally they reached the top of the stairs they closed the door firmly behind, finally muffling the noise to a bearable level.   
  
“What on Arda is that thing.”   
  
Ava still smelt of the forest, and there was still a leaf tucked in her hair and dirt on her face, “I have no idea. Mithrandir said it's the matter he wished to discuss with you.”   
  
Of course, he had come for a favor. Of course. “With me specifically?”   
  
“All he said was ‘discuss with him’ but I would assume he meant you, considering the last time you two parted you yourself was not yet sure if your father was alive. He would not risk his life by asking us to speak with the king. Not after what he did.”   
  
To say the last time he and Mithrandir saw one another had been unpleasant was a gross understatement, it had been literally moments before he saw his father in the tent for the first time. Right before he threatened to have him personally thrown out of Greenwood followed by a, not at all concealed threat   
  
Legolas was starting to get a headache already, sensing she wasn't finished. “A group of orcs followed him and the human into the forest, we thought about trying to ambush them but their number was too great. They’re still confused in the south woods.”   
  
“Leave them there for now. The wizard?”   
  
“We didn't know where to put him but for now he's in the throne room waiting. Locked in. Farlen is standing outside ”   
  
He thought about it for a moment, “You said there was a human too?”   
  
“Spoke with Mithrandir the same as you and I would, and never in Westeron.”   
  
Elladan and Elrohir’s adopted human brother then, the one they had both been gushing about in their letters for the last fifty years. They had mentioned he was on an errand with the wizard, but did not yet know what.   
  
“We gave them food and water, for the human's sake,” Galion added without being asked, they were unwelcoming to outsiders but not cruel for no reason.   
  
“Poor thing looked scared for his life the entire time. I heard him trying to discreetly ask why we hated Mithrandir so much. He did not answer.”   
  
“Of course not.” His father had long since grown frustrated with the wizards elusive answers that left out truths without lying. Legolas had reached his limit after the battle at the mountain. Of course, he had not told his companion that he was not welcome here. “Galion go tell my father what's happened, I’m going to talk to Mithrandir.”   
  
Galion hesitated, “You know as well as I that he is just going to send me back to you as fast as I could possibly get here to stop you.”   
  
Mithrandir was the being responsible for the very, very near death and now crippling of his father. He was responsible for all of his people that did died that day. He was responsible for the banishment of the Necromancer but not those that followed him; throwing them into a frenzied angered freedom where at least before they had been controlled.   
  
“Yes. So I have what, three or four minutes for you to get there and back?” Legolas asked, already on his way down the hall to talk to somebody he used to call a friend.   
  
Galion had even less favor now for Mithrandir than even Legolas, he was the one that just had to watch it all happen. Had to watch the prince he had helped raise suffer like that and Thranduil who had loved almost as a brother now. “Four minutes. I don't have to hurry there.”  
  


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Galion turned the last corner to the throne room just in time to get nearly trampled by Farlen as he raced away with urgent orders from his prince and captain, Avaleian had already gone the other way.    
  
Legolas was blazing in all of his glory, a prince whose kingdom had been immediately threatened who fully intended to see to the task himself. He waited at the end for Legolas to catch up with him, paper ready just in case Legolas spoke too fast for him to fully remember his instructions.    
  
But Legolas stopped when he reached his father's attendant and friend, “That thing in the dungeons knows where the Ring is.”    
  
Even Galion had struggled to hear what he said so low his voice had been, yet it still felt as if every single evil eye in the forest was turned to him. “What are you going to do?”    
  
“I am going to go kill every single orc that followed them here. After ensuring that no secrets have been spread.”    
  
Unpleasant work. Gruesome, really. “And if they have?”    
  
“I don’t know.”    
  
Both his face and his hands had suddenly gone cold. If those in Dul Guldur found out that they housed the answer to their masters greatest wish… They would be dead by morning.    
  
“Kementari protect us.”    
  
Legolas stepped away, towards the armory. “If she was going to protect us, she would have done it by now.”    
  
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It was a strange thing when Legolas lost his temper. Because Thranduil always felt compelled to keep his own immaculate, one of them would have to be a voice of reason. Usually, almost always, that was Legolas.    
  
He hadn’t even seen his son before he had left to hunt the orcs but seeing Gallion's face was enough. “You’re certain that they didn’t know about the creature and what he knows?”   
  
Farlen nodded, and Legolas and Avaleina did not dispute it. Their eyes still haunted by inflicting incentive enough to get the truth, “We’re certain.”    
  
Legolas cleared his throat, “They all thought they belonged to a town nearby they could raid if they followed long enough. I guess their tribe didn’t do well over the winter.”    
  
“And you got all of them.”    
  
This time it was Legolas who nodded, “Every single one. Trust me.”   
  
And if there was anything left in this word that Thranduil trusted it was his son. “Alright.”     
  
“I am sending Ava and Farlen and six of whoever they choose to the border with them to go ask the tree’s if they have seen or heard any noticeable changes.” It was hard to get an exact account from distances, tree’s in a forest were only individuals when you stood near them. “Just in case.”   
  
They all knew that Thranduil would not question this either. After Legolas’ brief stint at being king, the two seemed to have settled into a strange co-ruling role of sorts. Thranduil was king and ultimately everything was still up to him, but there was were certain roles and tasks that Legolas had taken full control over. The archers being one of those very things.    
  
The Greenwood army still more or less rested in the hands of Lord Ferdan, but the archers had long since been loyal to their prince.    
  
When his father didn’t say anything in objection he nodded to his captains, “Go on then.”    
  
Hands to their hearts they bowed somewhat formally to their king and excused themselves, both members of the royal family felt their tempers simmer at something outside in the hall.    
  
“That would be Mithrandir on his way here. Can I trust you to stay and not lose your temper?”    
  
Legolas picked up an apple out of the fruit bowl and tossed it into the air with incredible flourish, “How about I take a bite everytime I’m about to say something I shouldn’t?”    
  
Thranduil looked at the bowl and then looked to his son, “We’re going to need more apples.”    
  
Galion knocked on the door that Farlen and Avaleina had left open, “My King, the trespassers.”   
  
Thranduil looked over to Legolas, eyebrows raised. He would not hesitate to throw Legolas from the room if the felt it necessary. There were those in this world who underestimated the prince  His father had never been one of them.    
  
In response he plopped himself down on the corner of his father's sturdy desk, “I’m alright. Galion bring them in.”    
  
And in the two were ushered, Mithrandir looking almost as terrified as the poor human man, Legolas crunched into his apple the moment the two walked in. Thranduil shot him a look and then spoke, “Mithrandir, it has been some time since I have seen you, considering you left so swiftly last time you were here. I am glad to see you are well.”   
  
Pleasant words and pleasant tone, but a harsh reminder of the circumstances the two had parted in.   
  
Legolas had heard the meaning just as clear as Mithrandir, and in an effort to contain a laugh bit into his apple once more, watching as their old friend seemed to prepare for battle, “Thranduil-”    
  
“My King.” Legolas corrected, ignoring his father's second warning glance. They had to be careful now, even if Mithrandir was not the new master, there was no doubt he knew them. Keeping information secret and safe was imperative; there was no room for slip-ups. “Your Highness. My Liege. Whichever you prefer.”    
  
Mithrandir looked to Legolas and when he saw him hard as stone sighed, and began again,  “My King, I am also very glad to see you well, I have long wished to hear such news.”   
  
Both father and son wondered if that was because he was genuinely worried, or if he just wanted to pass the news along. Or ease his own conscience.    
  
“One might even say you prayed for it.”  To keep him sitting on the desk and not sent out into the hall with an ‘urgent manner’ he took another bite, probably sensing his sons rising temper Thranduil placed a gentle but restraining hand on his arm before returning it to the arm of the chair.    
  
“I hope you do not plan on making a habit of routinely bringing such distasteful creatures to my home every few decades.  I must admit, it is a game I will quickly tire from.” Dwarves, as far as he was concerned were nearly the same as the creature in the sack. Another pawn unknowingly played.   
  
Mithrandir went to respond, but Thranduil being himself wave for silence before the wizard even began, the less time spent with one another the better.  “I am not interested in your excuses. Just tell me what you want and why.”   
  
“The Ring has been found, and Gollum knows the location of the one who currently possesses it. It is imperative that he is kept out of the enemies reach, but with such darkness touching his soul the Ringwraiths would be able to find him everywhere. Everywhere but here.”     
  
Legolas and his father looked at one another; they had taken brief bets among the few who knew why he had brought the creature to them. Lord Ferdan had won, and would gloat for years. Legolas snorted at even the thought of the jokes, and his father tried not to smile.    
  
They had learned long ago to take joy in small moments, whenever you could. There was no time for waiting.    
  
Sobering once more Thranduil leaned back in his chair, subtly adjusting his injury. It had been a long day, and bed rest was most comfortable. “That is answers the ‘why’, but not the ‘what.’”   
  
“I wish to ask you, to beg you if I must-”    
  
“That could be entertaining.” Again, Thranduil tired not to smile but in spite of that, he gestured loosely for Legolas to continue on his apple. There was no point, it was finished.    
  
To his credit, Mithrandir ignored him. “To keep him hidden here, in your dungeons where he cannot cause harm and cannot be found. At least until I can travel to the one who holds the Ring and get him to safety, for he does not know the great evil he possesses’ and will be unable to defend himself should they find him.”    
  
“And where, pray tell, will you be traveling to?”    
  
This was an important question. A very, very important question. They already had their suspicions that it had somehow been used in bringing about the dreadful day of the battle. That it had been used to free the dwarves. Had it been planted somewhere to be found, Gondor perhaps? Or had he given it to Galadriel whom he loved so much and had a history of wanting power as it was. 

 

Mithrandir looked ruffled, "I do not think that information need be-"   
  
“Then we are done here.” Thranduil pulled a list of things he needed to attend to, a gift from Galion at some point in the day, “Legolas, if you will.”    
  
Legolas lightly tossed the core of his apple into a nearby garbage and then jumped to his feet, “Of course, Adar.”    
  
A dismissal was a dismissal and Legolas somewhat gleeful began the process of almost throwing them from the room. Mithrandir seemed to realize he had lost, he was at the disadvantage here. And if he forgot, Legolas would happily remind him. “The Shire. I will be traveling to the Shire.”    
  
Not exactly what they had expected. But it made sense, the hobbit. How else had he stolen the Arkenstone and set free the dwarves? Lacking an apple and therefore a distraction, Legolas was free to let out a fake and somewhat mocking gasp, “But Adar, is that not where our dear friend Bilbo Baggins comes from?”    
  
Thranduil allowed it. “Yes, Ion-nin, I do believe it is.”    
  
They both turned back to Mithrandir, who didn’t say anything.   
  
“Very well, Mithrandir, we will keep that foul little thing of yours here. But only because it is Legolas’ belief that attempting to remove him from our woods unnoticed would put our people in more reckless danger. Recklessness that, unlike you, we can ill afford.” Thranduil sighed with yet another shift in his seat; his legs were probably going painfully numb.   
  
That had been the general recommendation from the archers, to keep him from the woods if at all possible. They had spies in the tree’s the enemy did not know about, who was to say they did not do the same?    
  
A decision had been made, that's all they needed and so Legolas resumed removing them from the room, “Out. The King is very busy, and you have wasted enough of his time.”    
  
Just as the door was about to close a foot obstructed the way and Thranduil briefly wondered if Mithrandir had any idea how thin the ice he was stomping on was. “Will you ever forgive me, Greenleaf?”

  
Legolas was cold. Angry. Betrayed.  “It seems unlikely.” And then he slammed the door shut. 


End file.
